Monday, September 14, 2026
Data Centre Capital of Canada But Where Are the Jobs?
By Mr. ‘X’ ~ John Mutton, Former Mayor of Clarington
CENTRAL EXCLUSIVE
There has been considerable excitement at Clarington Town Hall about the possibility of making our municipality the “data centre capital of Canada.” It certainly makes for a good headline. But before we start handing over some of the most strategically important employment land in Ontario, I think taxpayers deserve answers to a few much less glamorous questions. How many permanent jobs will these data centres actually create? How many jobs will they create per hectare of employment land they consume? How much electricity will they require? How much water will they consume? And perhaps most importantly: What are we giving up by putting them there? Let me make something clear from the beginning. I am not opposed to data centres. They are an important part of the modern economy. Artificial intelligence, cloud computing and virtually every part of our increasingly digital economy require them. Data centres can also represent billions of dollars of private-sector investment and significant additions to the municipal assessment base. My concern isn't whether data centres should come to Clarington. My concern is where we put them. Our Employment Lands Were Created to Create Employment Clarington's own Official Plan describes Employment Areas as strategic assets. More importantly, the Official Plan establishes a minimum employment-density target of 30 jobs per gross hectare, especially on Prestige Employment, Business Park and Light Industrial lands adjacent to the Highway 401 and 418 corridors. There was a reason for that. Municipalities don't designate employment lands simply because they want large industrial buildings. We designate them because we need somewhere for people to work. Now consider what happens when a very land-intensive development produces relatively few permanent jobs. If 100 hectares of employment land were developed at 30 jobs per hectare, the planning benchmark represents approximately 3,000 jobs. If a development occupying those same 100 hectares produced only 500 permanent jobs, it would achieve just 5 jobs per hectare. The municipality would effectively be 2,500 jobs short of the employment capacity represented by the 30-jobs-per-hectare benchmark. Those jobs then have to be accommodated somewhere else. And unlike an annual budget problem, you can't fix this one next year. The land is gone. And This Isn't Just Any Employment Land Immediately beside the Darlington Nuclear Generating Station sits the Clarington Energy Business Park. It comprises approximately 129 hectares - 318 acres. Clarington's own Secondary Plan says these lands were identified as an appropriate location for prestige employment uses that benefit from proximity to Darlington and other major employers within the energy and environment sectors. The Plan says the site has the attributes to become a focal point for new development within the Durham Energy Cluster. Think about how extraordinary that opportunity has become. Darlington is now at the centre of Ontario's nuclear expansion. Around it, Clarington has an opportunity to attract nuclear engineering companies, component manufacturers, robotics companies, SMR suppliers, research and development operations, engineering consultants, training institutions, advanced manufacturers and corporate offices. Those businesses create something more important than individual buildings. They create a cluster. One supplier attracts another. Engineering talent attracts research. Research attracts investment. Manufacturers attract their suppliers. And suddenly Clarington isn't simply the municipality where the nuclear plant happens to be located. Clarington becomes Canada's nuclear-energy capital. Why would we want to trade that opportunity for the title of data centre capital without first understanding the consequences? A Canadian Reality Check: Meta's Alberta Data Centre Here is why this question deserves more than slogans. In July 2026, Meta announced a new 1-gigawatt data centre in Sturgeon County, Alberta. Meta says the completed project will represent an investment of more than C$13 billion and employ approximately 3,000 construction workers at peak construction. But once operational, Meta says the data centre will support more than 300 jobs.
That is an enormous investment and those jobs are valuable. But it illustrates why municipalities must distinguish temporary construction employment from permanent operational employment when deciding how to use scarce employment land. Clarington's 129-hectare Energy Business Park, measured against the Official Plan's 30-jobs-per-gross-hectare benchmark, represents 3,870 jobs of employment capacity at that density. We do not know that a Clarington data centre would employ 300 people, nor should anyone pretend the Alberta project and Clarington's Energy Business Park are identical. But the Canadian example gives Council a very good reason to demand a project-specific jobs-per-hectare calculation before approving a hyperscale facility on strategic employment land.
Clarington Energy Business Park -129 ha. Official Plan employment-density benchmark - 30 jobs/ha. Employment represented at that density - 3,870 jobs. Illustrative hyperscale operational employment - 300 jobs*. Illustrative density if 300 jobs occupied -129 ha 2.3 jobs/ha. Illustrative difference from benchmark - 3,570 jobs. Share of benchmark employment - 7.8%. *The 300-job figure is an illustration using Meta's current Sturgeon County, Alberta hyperscale example. It is not a forecast for any specific Clarington proposal. Put another way: at Clarington's 30-jobs-per-hectare benchmark, just 10 hectares represents 300 jobs. That is why jobs per hectare matters. Other Municipalities Are Asking Exactly These Questions We wouldn't be the first municipality to be cautious. Oakville Council has used an Interim Control By-law to pause and study new data centres and similar high-intensity digital processing facilities on employment lands. Mississauga has also moved toward an Interim Control By-law and a comprehensive policy review examining issues such as employment, economic benefits, infrastructure, energy and water consumption, noise, heat and environmental impacts. In other words, the sensible approach is not necessarily to say no. It is to say: show us the numbers first. Then There Is Water The water question deserves considerably more attention. Data centres produce tremendous quantities of heat. How that heat is removed depends upon the technology used in a particular facility. Some systems can substantially reduce direct water consumption; others can use significant water for cooling.Meta's Alberta project is a useful reminder not to generalize: Meta says its Sturgeon County facility will use a closed-loop liquid-cooled system with dry cooling and projects no operational water use in the cooling system. That is exactly why Clarington should require disclosure rather than rely on assumptions. Before approving a major data centre, Clarington should know its projected annual water consumption, peak water demand, cooling technology, electricity requirement and whether municipal drinking water is being used for cooling. If a developer proposes a low-water or closed-loop system, terrific. Show us. If it proposes substantial use of treated municipal water, taxpayers deserve to know that too.Then there is the elephant in the room: power. The reason Clarington is attractive to data-centre developers isn't difficult to understand. We have Darlington and an enormous concentration of electricity infrastructure. But access to power is itself becoming an economic-development asset.
If hundreds of megawatts of available electrical capacity are committed to data centres, could that constrain our ability to attract advanced manufacturing, nuclear suppliers or other major employers later? I don't know the answer. But before declaring ourselves the data centre capital of Canada, somebody had better find out. Put Every Proposal Through Four Tests I think Clarington Council should establish four simple tests before approving major data centres on strategic employment lands. 1. The Jobs Test How many permanent full-time jobs will the facility create, and what does that equal in jobs per gross hectare? Compare it directly with the employment-density assumptions in our Official Plan. 2. The Water Test How much water will the facility consume annually and at peak demand? What cooling technology will be used? Where will that water come from? 3. The Power Test What will the facility's ultimate electrical demand be? What upgrades will be required? Does allocating that capacity affect Clarington's ability to attract other employment-intensive industries? 4. The Opportunity-Cost Test What land is being consumed? If it is Prestige Employment land beside Darlington, could that property reasonably accommodate nuclear suppliers, advanced manufacturing, research facilities, engineering companies or other higher-employment uses? Maybe Clarington Should Hit the Pause Button Oakville has paused to study the issue. Mississauga is examining a similar precautionary approach. Perhaps Clarington should consider an Interim Control By-law of its own while it completes a proper Data Centre Land Use and Infrastructure Study. Not because we're anti-business. Quite the opposite.
5 Minutes can change your life
By Tom Reimer
Sly returned—because of course he did. A man like him didn’t accept defeat easily. He moved through your yard with the slow, deliberate confidence of someone who believed persistence was a skill. But tonight, as he crept toward your home, he felt something different in the air. Not danger. Not an opportunity. Just… irritation. Your house had embarrassed him twice already, and he wasn’t about to let a building get the better of him. He started with the obvious: the doors. The back patio door stood there like a smug sentinel, gleaming under the motion-activated floodlight that snapped on the moment he stepped within range. Sly froze, teeth clenched. The light wasn’t just bright—it was theatrical, like a spotlight calling out his presence. He backed away, shielding his eyes, muttering curses under his breath. Fine. Doors were out. Again.
He moved to the windows, hoping maybe—just maybe—you’d overlooked one. But every single one had a visual deterrent staring back at him. Reinforced frames. Security film stickers. Alarm decals. Even the blinds were closed tight, giving him nothing to study, nothing to exploit. He tapped one pane lightly. That same dull, dead thud. He hated that sound.
He circled the house twice, growing more annoyed each time. No door. No window. No chance.
So, he started thinking like a desperate man.
Alternatives. He scanned the yard, looking for anything he could use. A shed? No. Locked. A ladder? You’d secured it with a chain. A garbage bin he could climb? Too far from the house—and you’d placed it under a camera. He spotted the camera’s blinking blue LED and hissed through his teeth. You weren’t just protecting your home; you were taunting him with every visual cue imaginable. He moved toward the side of the house, hoping for a blind spot. Instead, he found a sign mounted neatly on the wall: 24/7 Surveillance. Audio & Video Recording. He stared at it, wondering if it was real. Then he noticed the tiny reflection of the IR camera lens catching the moonlight. Real. He backed away again. He tried the backyard fence next, thinking maybe he could climb it and access the roof. But you’d installed anti-climb spikes—small, discreet, but unmistakable. He ran a gloved hand along them and felt his stomach sink. Even the fence was telling him to go home. He looked up at the roofline, considering a desperate scramble. But then he saw them: two fake security cameras angled downward, blinking red. Fake or not, they worked. They made him hesitate. They made him doubt. They made him feel watched.
And that was enough. Sly stood in the middle of your yard, surrounded by lights, signs, cameras, spikes, reinforced frames, and every visual deterrent you could imagine. It wasn’t just a house—it was a message. A loud, clear, unavoidable message.
Not here. Not tonight. Not ever. He exhaled, defeated yet again, and slipped back into the shadows. He wasn’t used to losing, but your home had turned him into a spectator—someone who could only look, never touch.
As he disappeared into the night, one thought lingered in his mind: You hadn’t just secured your home. You’d secured his surrender. Not on my watch. Sly, not today, not ever—you have been outsmarted.
Next week, we are going inside because crime prevention is not only about the ones that you don’t know, but an unsuspecting homeowner can fall victim and you need to be informed. Till then.
#1 MUNICIPAL ISSUE ‘TAXES’
Canada Must Build Its Way to Economic Independence
by Maj (ret’d) CORNELIU, CHISU, CD, PMSC FEC, CET, P.Eng.
Former Member of Parliament
Pickering-Scarborough East
The Canada–United States tariff war is no longer a temporary commercial dispute that can be managed through patient diplomacy and selective retaliation.
It represents a fundamental change in the relationship between two countries whose economies have been closely integrated for generations.
Canada did not choose this confrontation. Nor should Canadians mistake opposition to American tariffs for hostility toward the American people. The United States will remain our neighbour, ally and largest trading partner. But friendship cannot substitute for national preparedness. When access to another country’s market can be restricted by presidential order, Canada must possess the infrastructure required to trade, produce, defend and prosper independently.
The lesson is unmistakable: economic sovereignty cannot exist without physical infrastructure.
For decades, Canada constructed an economy that overwhelmingly moves north to south. Our highways, railways, pipelines, electrical connections and supply chains were designed principally to serve the American market. That arrangement generated prosperity while relations were stable. It has now become a strategic vulnerability. Although approximately 85 per cent of Canada–U.S. trade remained tariff-free under CUSMA when the federal government presented Budget 2025, tariffs and repeated threats affecting steel, aluminum, automobiles, lumber and other strategic sectors demonstrated that even a formal trade agreement cannot eliminate political risk. Canada must respond with more than counter-tariffs, subsidies and emergency assistance to affected industries. These may be necessary defensive measures, but they do not change the structure of our economy. Canada must undertake the greatest program of nation-building infrastructure since the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway.
First, Canada needs genuine east-west trade corridors.
Producers in Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba must be able to move energy, minerals, agricultural products and manufactured goods efficiently to ports on the Pacific, Atlantic and Arctic coasts. Ontario and Quebec manufacturers need reliable access to Canadian ports without depending excessively upon American transportation networks. Rail capacity must be expanded, highways modernized and ports enlarged. Bottlenecks at Vancouver, Prince Rupert, Montreal, Halifax and Saint John must be treated as national economic-security concerns. The federal government has already begun examining proposals to strengthen trade corridors and modernize port governance. That work must now move rapidly from consultation to construction.
Second, Canada must build the energy infrastructure necessary to serve both Canadians and international customers.
It is extraordinary that a country possessing some of the world’s largest oil and natural-gas reserves still lacks sufficient capacity to deliver its energy to multiple global markets. Canada needs additional pipelines, liquefied-natural-gas facilities, expanded electricity grids and transmission lines connecting provinces. It also needs new nuclear generation, including proven large reactors and emerging small modular reactors. Energy security is not an ideological question. It is the foundation of industrial strength, affordability and national independence. Projects must meet serious environmental standards and respect Indigenous rights. But consultation cannot become permanent paralysis. Predictable approval deadlines, clear responsibilities and early Indigenous participation would produce better decisions than today’s overlapping and uncertain processes.
Third, Canada must establish a complete critical-minerals supply chain.
Possessing deposits of lithium, nickel, cobalt, copper, graphite, uranium and rare-earth elements is not enough. If minerals must leave Canada for processing and return as finished components, we remain dependent upon foreign industrial capacity. Mines must be connected to roads, railways, electricity and ports. Canada must build refining and processing plants and manufacture batteries, electrical equipment, defence systems and advanced technologies domestically. Indigenous communities in northern and remote regions should become equity partners, workers and long-term beneficiaries—not observers whose territories are approached only after decisions have effectively been made.
Fourth, infrastructure policy must include defence.
The Arctic is becoming more accessible, more commercially important and more strategically contested. Canada cannot credibly claim sovereignty over the North without ports, airfields, radar, telecommunications, icebreakers and permanent transportation links. Dual-purpose infrastructure would serve northern communities while supporting the Canadian Armed Forces. A deep-water port can accommodate commercial shipping and naval vessels. An expanded runway can support civilian transportation, emergency response and military aircraft. Reliable broadband and energy systems can strengthen communities while improving surveillance and security.
Fifth, Canada must eliminate its internal economic barriers.
It makes little sense to demand access to international markets while allowing provincial regulations to obstruct trade within our own country. Labour qualifications, trucking requirements, procurement rules and product standards should be mutually recognized wherever legitimate health and safety considerations permit. Canada should become one effective national market of more than 40 million people. Removing internal barriers is among the fastest and least expensive ways to increase productivity and strengthen Canadian businesses.
Financing this transformation will require discipline and imagination. Public money should be concentrated on infrastructure that increases productive capacity rather than scattered among politically convenient announcements. Pension funds, Indigenous investment corporations and private capital can participate where projects have clear rules and credible revenue models. The Canada Infrastructure Bank can contribute, but governments must remain accountable for selecting projects according to national importance.
Strategic procurement should favour Canadian steel, aluminum, lumber, engineering and technology when consistent with our international obligations. If taxpayers finance a bridge, railway, power plant or defence installation, the project should help develop Canadian industrial capacity and skilled employment.
The danger is that governments will respond to the tariff crisis with slogans, retaliatory gestures and a collection of disconnected projects. Canada needs something more ambitious: a national infrastructure strategy supported across party lines and extending over several decades.
The Canadian Pacific Railway was once considered financially reckless and physically impossible. Yet it united the country and gave political Confederation an economic foundation. The St. Lawrence Seaway, the Trans-Canada Highway, hydroelectric developments and nuclear power stations similarly transformed Canada’s possibilities.
Our generation faces another nation-building moment.
Canada should continue negotiating firmly with Washington and defending the rules of continental trade. However, we must never again assume that unrestricted American market access is guaranteed. We need the ability to reach Europe, Asia and other markets through Canadian territory and Canadian ports.
Tariffs are intended to make Canadians feel vulnerable and compel concessions. Our answer must be neither panic nor empty nationalism. It must be construction.
Build the ports. Build the railways. Build the pipelines and power plants. Build the northern roads, defence installations and digital networks. Connect our provinces, develop our resources and manufacture more of what Canada needs. National independence is not preserved by declarations alone. It is secured by the tools, institutions and infrastructure that allow a country to make its own choices. Canada must now build those tools—urgently, confidently and together.
Human trafficking
Human trafficking is the kind of crime many of us prefer to imagine happens somewhere else
In another city. Another neighbourhood. Another family.
But the evidence tells us something far more uncomfortable: it is happening here.
Between 2021 and 2025, Durham Regional Police’s Human Trafficking Unit conducted 1,332 investigations involving elements of human trafficking. Police identified 531 accused persons or persons of interest, laid 754 trafficking-related charges and assisted 1,175 people identified as victims or at risk of exploitation.
Those numbers should stop every parent in Durham in their tracks.
Perhaps the most dangerous misconception about human trafficking is the image we have created in our minds of what it looks like.
We imagine kidnapping. A stranger. A van. Someone being taken across a border. Sometimes trafficking can involve those things. But often it begins much more quietly. It can begin with affection. Attention. A gift. A new relationship. A message on social media.
Someone recognizing that a young person is lonely, insecure, struggling at home or desperate to belong — and deliberately exploiting that vulnerability.
Ontario's Anti-Human Trafficking Strategy says the average age of recruitment into sex trafficking is just 13 years old. Thirteen. At that age, children should be thinking about school, friendships, sports and what they are doing on the weekend. They should not need to understand how a predator can slowly transform affection into manipulation, isolation, threats and control.
That is what makes grooming so dangerous. It often does not look dangerous in the beginning.
And this is not merely a provincial or national problem.
In March, Durham Regional Police announced arrests following an investigation involving allegations that a woman had been groomed into escorting, threatened with violence and forced to work in the sex trade across Durham and the GTA. Police executed a search warrant at a residence in Pickering and said they were concerned there could be additional victims.
A month earlier, police announced the results of Project Firebird, an initiative targeting people allegedly seeking sexual services from minors in Durham Region. Six men were charged with 19 offences. Those allegations, of course, must still be proven in court.
The point is not to frighten parents.
It is to inform them.
Parents need to have uncomfortable conversations with their children about healthy relationships, online safety, consent, boundaries and controlling behaviour.
Young people need to understand that someone demanding passwords, isolating them from friends, controlling their money or threatening them with private photographs is not demonstrating love. And perhaps most importantly, children need to know that if they get themselves into a frightening situation, they can come home and tell us.
Without judgement. Without shame. Without fearing that the first question will be, “What were you thinking?”
Because sometimes the question adults need to ask is not, “Why didn't they leave?”
It is: “How did someone manage to gain this much control over them?”
We should also learn the warning signs without assuming every troubling behaviour means trafficking. Sudden isolation, unexplained expensive belongings, another person controlling someone's money, frequent hotel stays, injuries, fear or dramatic behavioural changes can all warrant attention.
Awareness is not paranoia. It is paying attention. It is staying connected. It is asking questions.
And it is making sure help is visible.
The Canadian Human Trafficking Hotline operates confidentially, 24 hours a day, in more than 200 languages at 1-833-900-1010. In an emergency, call 911.
Human trafficking thrives in secrecy, manipulation and silence.
So we should make noise.
Talk to your children. Share the hotline number. Learn the warning signs. Pay attention to the young people around you.
You may never need that knowledge.
But someone you love might.
Why Do All People Experiencing Homelessness Always Sleep During the Day? Well they don’t all sleep during the day but let me explain why some do …..
By Margaret Eskins
Executive Director DARS
Dedicated Advocacy Resource Support
Daytime sleeping is rarely about laziness or a lack of ambition. More often, it is the visible result of a long, exhausting night spent trying to survive. It is important to begin by challenging the word “always.” People experiencing homelessness do not always sleep during the day, nor do they all share the same circumstances. Each person has a different history, different needs, and different reasons for being without stable housing. However, many unhoused people do sleep during daylight hours because it may be the only time they feel safe enough to close their eyes. For most of us, nighttime means locking the door, turning off the lights, and going to sleep in a place where we expect to remain safe until morning. A person who is homeless may not have that protection. They may be sleeping outside, in a vehicle, in a stairwell, on public transit, in a tent, or in another temporary location where they could be robbed, assaulted, harassed, or ordered to leave. Personal belongings must also be protected. When everything a person owns is carried in a backpack, cart, or a few bags, falling asleep can mean risking the loss of identification, medication, clothing, food, and other essential possessions. Replacing these items can be extremely difficult without money, transportation, or a permanent address. Remaining awake becomes a form of self-protection. Some people walk throughout the night to stay warm. Others move repeatedly because they are told they cannot remain in one location. A person living in a vehicle may need to relocate several times to avoid tickets, complaints, or unwanted attention. Someone staying in an emergency shelter may be surrounded by noise, movement, bright lights, illness, or unfamiliar people. Even when a bed is available, it does not necessarily mean restful sleep is possible. Trauma can make sleeping even more difficult. Many people experiencing homelessness have survived violence, abuse, loss, exploitation, or other deeply distressing events. Their bodies and minds may remain in a constant state of alertness. When a person does not feel secure, the body may resist sleep even when it is desperately exhausted. Physical and mental health can also affect sleep. Chronic pain, untreated illness, anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress, medication side effects, and addiction challenges may all disrupt a person’s natural sleep cycle. Living outdoors exposes people to extreme temperatures, rain, insects, and constant noise. Hunger also interferes with the body’s ability to settle and rest. By the time morning arrives, a person may have been awake for most or in some cases all night. Daytime can therefore feel safer. Public spaces are open, other people are nearby, temperatures may be warmer, and services are more accessible. A library, meal program, drop-in centre, or outreach location may provide the first calm and protected environment a person has encountered in hours. When someone falls asleep there, it may be because their body has finally decided that it is safe to rest.
Unfortunately, this survival response is frequently misinterpreted. Someone sleeping on a bench or at a table may be judged as irresponsible, unmotivated, or unwilling to help themselves. What observers do not see is the night that came before. They don’t see the walking, the fear, the cold, the interruptions, and the constant need to remain alert. Sleep deprivation has serious consequences. It can affect memory, concentration, emotional regulation, and decision-making. It can make completing forms, attending appointments, or following complicated instructions extremely difficult. A person who appears disengaged may simply be physically and mentally depleted. Expecting someone to make major life decisions while severely sleep-deprived is neither reasonable nor compassionate.
A lack of sleep can also create a harmful cycle. Exhaustion may cause someone to miss an appointment, lose a shelter bed, or struggle during a meeting. That missed opportunity may then be interpreted as non-compliance or a lack of interest. In reality, the individual may be trying to navigate complex systems while operating in survival mode.
At DARS, we believe behaviour must be understood in context. Instead of asking, “Why is this person sleeping during the day?” we should ask:“What happened during the night?”“Did this person have anywhere safe to go?” “When did they last experience uninterrupted sleep?” “What support would help them feel secure?” This trauma-informed approach replaces judgment with curiosity and compassion. It recognizes that sleep is not a reward people must earn. It is a basic human need, essential to physical health, mental wellness, and the ability to move forward.
Sometimes the most helpful thing we can offer is a meal, a warm drink, clean clothing, a shower, or assistance finding housing. At other times, the most meaningful support is simply a safe and welcoming place where someone can sit down, stop watching over their shoulder, and rest. Sleeping during the day is not the real problem. The real problem is that too many people do not have a safe place to sleep at night. At DARS, we work to see the person behind the circumstance. We understand that homelessness is not a character flaw, and exhaustion is not laziness. Before judging someone whose eyes are closed during the day, we should consider how long they may have needed to keep them open simply to survive the night.
I want to thank “J,” a resident at our farmhouse, for educating me about this topic. I too questioned it several years ago, and he patiently explained it to me. Now I know, and now I won’t judge. If you want to help someone who is unhoused, share J’s
Monday, September 7, 2026
What Does a City Councillor Do in Pickering, Ontario?
By Frank McGillan
Columnist
A City Councillor in Pickering is an elected representative whose job is to serve the residents of the city. Councillors are elected to listen to the concerns of the people in their ward, make decisions on behalf of the community, and help guide the future growth and development of Pickering. A councillor's job is much more than attending meetings. They are responsible for representing the interests of residents while working with the Mayor, other councillors, City staff, and the community.
1. Representing Residents
One of the most important responsibilities of a councillor is representing the people who elected them. Residents may contact their councillor about issues such as roads, traffic, development, parks, garbage collection, property concerns, zoning, public safety, or other municipal services. A councillor should listen to these concerns, communicate with City staff when appropriate, and bring important community issues forward to Council.
2. Making Decisions for the City
Pickering City Council makes decisions that affect the entire community. Councillors debate proposals, ask questions, review reports from City staff, and vote on matters before Council.
These decisions can involve: City budgets and spending - Property taxes -Roads and transportation - Parks and recreation - Planning and development - Zoning and land use - Community facilities
- Environmental issues - Economic development - Municipal services - Long-term plans for the City
Councillors have a responsibility to make informed decisions based on the information available to them and the interests of the community.
3. Approving the Municipal Budget
Council is responsible for approving Pickering's municipal budget. This determines how City money is spent and helps establish the level of municipal taxes and services. Councillors must consider whether spending proposals are necessary, affordable, and in the best interests of Pickering taxpayers.
4. Planning and Development
Pickering is a growing community, and Council plays an important role in deciding how the city develops. Councillors deal with matters involving residential development, commercial development, industrial properties, roads, parks, community facilities, and land-use planning. However, councillors do not personally design or approve every development. Much of the technical work is done by professional City staff, planners, engineers, and other experts. Council makes decisions within the authority given to municipalities under Ontario law.
5. Attending Council and Committee Meetings
Councillors are expected to attend City Council meetings and committee meetings, review reports, participate in discussions, ask questions, and vote on matters before Council.
They also may serve on committees, boards, or other municipal organizations.
Being prepared for meetings is an important part of the job because councillors are making decisions that can have long-term consequences for residents and taxpayers.
6. Working With City Staff
A councillor does not personally run City departments or direct individual employees.
Pickering has professional City staff who administer municipal programs and services. The City Manager and department heads are responsible for the day-to-day administration of the municipality. Council's role is primarily to establish policies, approve budgets, provide direction at the Council level, and hold the administration accountable.
7. Looking at the Bigger Picture
A councillor has to balance individual concerns with the needs of the entire community.
For example, one resident may want a particular development stopped, while another resident may support it. A councillor must consider the facts, planning rules, City policies, legislation, financial implications, and the broader public interest before voting. A councillor cannot simply vote on every issue according to whichever resident contacts them first.
8. Being Accountable to Taxpayers
Councillors are elected officials and should be accountable to the residents of Pickering.
That means residents should expect their councillors to be accessible, transparent, prepared, respectful, and willing to explain the reasons behind their decisions. Councillors should also understand that they are spending public money and making decisions that affect the community for years to come.
What a Councillor Is NOT
It is also important to understand what a councillor's job is not. A councillor is not the mayor, the City Manager, a City employee, a police officer, a building inspector, or a City department manager.
A councillor generally cannot personally order City employees to perform work, change a planning decision on their own, waive municipal rules, or spend City money without the proper Council process. Their authority comes from their position as a member of Council and from the powers and responsibilities given to municipalities under Ontario law.
In Simple Terms
The job of a Pickering City Councillor is to represent residents, make responsible decisions, help set municipal policy, approve spending and budgets, participate in planning for the City's future, and hold the municipal administration accountable. The councillor's ultimate responsibility is to the people of Pickering. A good councillor should listen to residents, understand the issues, do their homework, ask difficult questions when necessary, and make decisions based on what is best for the community—not simply what is easiest or most popular at the moment. Being elected to City Council is a public responsibility. It means being entrusted with taxpayers' money, the future development of the community, and decisions that can affect residents and businesses throughout Pickering.
The Paperwork Doesn't Die
By Gary Payne, MBA
Founder of FuneralCostOntario.ca
The Fine Print
A week or two after a funeral, somebody usually ends up at the kitchen table with a folder that was never supposed to become a project. There is the will, a death certificate, a bank statement, maybe something from an insurance company and a growing collection of notes about things that still need to be done. The folder gets opened, closed, moved out of the way for dinner and opened again the next morning. Eventually it stops looking temporary.
We talk a lot about grief after someone dies, and rightly so, but not nearly as much about the administrative job that arrives with it. Someone who is still trying to absorb what happened may suddenly be calling banks,
cancelling accounts and trying to understand government forms they had no reason to know existed a month earlier. You become the person handling it because your name is on the will, because you live closest or because everyone else has quietly decided you’re the one who can figure these
things out.
The mail keeps coming, which is one of the stranger parts. Renewal notices arrive. Bills show up. A company writes to the person who died because, as far as its computer is concerned, nothing has happened. You call, explain the situation and write down the name of whoever you spoke to because there’s a fair chance you’ll need it later. Before long there are dates in the margins, confirmation numbers on scraps of paper and reminders to call somebody back Tuesday.
That kind of mess is actually where I can see AI being useful. Not because it knows how to settle an estate, but because it’s quite good at helping organize information when six browser tabs are open and you’re trying to remember what somebody at the bank said yesterday. It can turn a page of notes into a list, help sort what’s finished from what isn’t and explain a piece of bureaucratic writing that doesn’t make much sense on the third reading either. The important part is deciding where the facts come from.
In Ontario, the Ministry of Finance says an Estate Information Return generally has to be filed within 180 days after the estate certificate is issued. Service Canada says the executor should apply for the CPP death
benefit within 60 days of the death. The federal government’s Canada.ca site can also build a checklist based on someone’s circumstances. Those are useful facts, but I’d rather have AI read those pages than ask it to remember the rules on its own. That’s the same distinction I’ve come back to before: point, don’t answer. Open the Ontario page and ask, “What does this say I have to file, and when?” Give it the Canada.ca checklist and ask which steps might still need attention. If a bank sends a letter written in the peculiar dialect of financial institutions, let the machine translate the wording into ordinary English. The source stays in front of you. There’s a privacy wrinkle here too. An estate folder may contain account numbers, tax information and other details that don’t belong in an AI prompt simply because you want help understanding one paragraph. Remove
what isn’t needed. In most cases, the useful question is about the wording or the process, not the dead person’s account number. That leaves AI in a less exciting role than some of the ones we hear about, but probably a more useful one. It isn’t the executor, it isn’t the
government and it isn’t the accountant. It’s something you can use while doing a job you never expected to have, mostly to make the pile a little easier to understand. If its answer disagrees with the document in front of you, the document wins.
There’s something odd about how little the administrative world notices a death. A person can be gone and yet the statements still arrive, the forms still have dates on them and somebody still has to close the account.
Eventually the folder comes back onto the kitchen table and gets opened again.
The paperwork doesn’t disappear when the person does. It changes hands.
*Gary Payne is the founder of CVORReady.ca, a compliance platform for Ontario trucking companies.
More Information, Less Judgment
Common Sense Health – Diana Gifford-Jones
It has been more than a year since I began writing this column on my own. When I first put my name alone at the top of the page, I was conscious of the responsibility. I was following my father, Dr. W. Gifford-Jones, whose name had appeared above this column for more than five decades.
That responsibility has not diminished. With time, it is also evolving. At first, I was thinking about how to honour my father's work. Now, I find myself thinking more about what it means to observe the world through my own eyes.
That may seem obvious, but it has taken me a year of writing to appreciate what it means. I inherited a commitment to evidence, scepticism of medical fashion and the belief that patients should ask questions. I inherited a conviction that doctors and medical authorities can, at times, be dead wrong.
Readers familiar with my father’s column will recall that not everyone aligned with his views on controversial topics. Yet, most would agree he opened debate, and in doing so he informed his readers on many of the pressing issues of the day – ranging from reproductive rights to pain management to the travesty of a drugged-out society.
I took on the column because I feel deeply connected to the tradition of the newspaper columnist. I enjoy investigating a subject, reading the research, making up my own mind, and telling readers what I think. I have no interest in what influencers do with their instant opinions and online lures. I prefer the discipline of being accountable for what I put on the page.
In the year since I assumed sole responsibility for this column, I have explored subjects spanning nutrition and preventive health, artificial intelligence and medicine, cardiovascular disease, dementia, longevity, and the evolving relationship between scientific evidence and everyday decision-making.
My starting point is the thousands of columns my father wrote over more than five decades (archived at www.docgiff.com). It’s the fundamentals of a healthy lifestyle that he underscored again and again. Eat well, exercise, don’t smoke, and maintain a healthy weight.
Like my father, I will share cautionary tales of humans making grave errors. Sometimes it is negligence. Other times, blind trust in people and systems. But don't surrender responsibility for your health to someone else.
This is especially important as the health landscape is dramatically changing. Artificial intelligence is beginning to reshape medicine. New drugs promise remarkable results for obesity and chronic disease. Genetic information is increasingly available to ordinary consumers. At the same time, social media has turned health advice into an endless stream of claims, counterclaims, anecdotes and advertisements.
More information has not produced better judgement. In fact, it’s a Gifford-Jones mantra that common sense remains a rare commodity.
Paying attention and using good judgment will yield results. Across Canada and around the world, researchers are increasingly talking not about lifespan, but "healthspan" – the number of years we remain healthy, active, independent, and engaged. Living longer isn’t worth your time if you are not living well.
The goal to live better for longer resonates with me because it reflects the example my father set. He remained intellectually curious, professionally active, and passionately engaged with readers into his second century of life.
In future columns, I will continue exploring nutrition, exercise, prevention, medical research, aging, and public health. I will bring my own perspective on what ordinary Canadians should heed amid the information flooding us.
Thank you for including me in your weekly reading. I look forward to the conversations ahead.
A Plan
By Wayne and Tamara
I've been in a job that is wrecking my happiness, but I am afraid to trust my perspective in case I am missing something. I fear leaving, lest it turn out to be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Also, pay here is a little higher than similar jobs I've seen lately.
My boss, the head of the whole organization, used to be self-employed. Until a year ago she never worked for a company before, let alone held a position at the top. Suddenly, through some people she knows from volunteering on the same board of directors, she was recruited for this head-honcho job and installed at the top.
I consider myself a monk-like person and spend my free time in spiritual pursuits and trying to be psychologically healthy. I felt my job was to support this boss as she dealt with huge new responsibilities. I felt my calmness and support was a great thing to offer her. I also have valuable skills and am a good worker.
Over the past year my optimism and confidence have eroded drastically. This boss seemed wonderful and constructive for the first six months, with a respectful attitude toward her staff and a healthy ability to look for advice and admit when she was wrong. I felt my reality and hers were on the same page.
But somewhere after those first six months, she became abusive. She lashes out, blames others, and makes up lies instead of taking responsibility for her own mistakes. This resulted in staff members quitting or being let go once she built a case against them for "too many mistakes." It gives me knots in my stomach, although I try to rebalance myself through prayer and affirmations on the way home.
One day she will call me sweetheart and thank me profusely for all I do. The next day she will speak through clenched teeth and insist she told me to do something one way when I know she told me to do it another. Sometimes it seems she is trying to push her employees until someone fights back, although we don't. She holds the thread that connects us to our paychecks, and she also holds the scissors that could snip this thread.
Barb
Barb, centuries ago Blaise Pascal asked why people like your boss are obeyed. Is it because they have more merit, he wondered? No. It is simply because they have more power. As Pascal observed, power without justice is tyranny.
We would like to believe if we do our job well and have good intentions, it matters. But with some people it doesn’t matter. Why should it matter to your boss when she obtained her position not through merit but through connections?
The directors of your company are on her side and will do nothing to protect the employees. They consider her their social equal, and the employees social inferiors, though they will never say that. In addition, they won’t admit they hired someone unqualified.
How wearing is it for your boss to go to work every day knowing she lacks the skills for the job? She is an imposter on her emotional edge. At least unconsciously, she wants all the people who knew she couldn’t do the job, and all the people who taught her what she knows, gone.
The fallacy of all communication techniques is the other person has to be willing to play. Usually, that is exactly the problem. They won’t play.
Weigh the tradeoff between having a bad boss and having less money. Then proceed from the basis of the power you possess. You have the power to be a good employee. You have the power to document what occurs in the workplace. You have the power to increase your skills. Most of all, you have the power to devise a plan to land on your feet, if the worst occurs.
Wayne & Tamara
Canada Has Bigger Problems Than What Donald Trump Calls Lake Ontario
Canada is having a meltdown over a lake.
President Donald Trump put “Lake America” on a map, and judging by the reaction in this country, you would think he had driven a truck across the border and hauled the water away. Politicians were outraged. Commentators were outraged. Social media was outraged. But here is the part nobody seems willing to say: The water did not move.
It is still Lake Ontario. Canadians still call it Lake Ontario. We can teach our children it is Lake Ontario. We can print it on our maps tomorrow. Problem solved. What should concern Canadians is not what an American president calls our lake. What should concern us is how quickly this country can manufacture outrage over two words on a map while remaining remarkably quiet about problems that actually threaten our sovereignty, our safety and our future. And there is another hypocrisy here that is impossible to ignore. For years, Canadians have been told that names can change. We renamed universities. We renamed streets. We renamed public squares. We took down statues.
We were told language evolves, identity evolves and that anyone who questioned it simply needed to catch up. And we are now living in a country where we are told that a man can become a woman, that biological reality can be rewritten through language, and that anyone who objects is the problem. But suddenly Donald Trump changes two words on a map and Ottawa acts as though Canadian sovereignty has collapsed.
Why? Because it was never really about the name. It was about who said it.
That is not leadership. That is political theatre. While Canadians were being encouraged to rage about a lake, what were we not talking about? Foreign interference in our elections.
Our own public inquiry confirmed that the People’s Republic of China carried out interference operations aimed at Canadian democratic institutions. That deserves outrage.
A government that cannot accurately tell Canadians how many people remain in this country after visas and permits expire should concern every citizen. That deserves outrage.
Human trafficking should outrage us. Women and children are moved across this country for sexual exploitation and forced labour while governments issue reports, create committees and then return to business as usual. Fentanyl should outrage us. Parents are burying sons and daughters while politicians offer carefully polished statements and move on to the next headline.
Families unable to afford their mortgage, rent, gas or groceries should outrage us. Canadians living in tents in the middle of one of the wealthiest countries on Earth should outrage us.
Violent repeat offenders being returned to our streets should outrage us. Yet somehow we can summon more national fury over a foreign president’s map than over the failures happening inside our own borders. That tells us something. We have confused politics with priorities. Politics is what people scream about on Tuesday because it is trending. Priorities are what still matter when the cameras go home. Foreign interference is a priority. Border security is a priority. Human trafficking is a priority. Fentanyl deaths are a priority. Housing is a priority. Affordability is a priority. Crime is a priority. A word on somebody else’s map is not. The same confusion exists in our approach to crime.
Our governments too often go after the easiest people to regulate rather than the hardest criminals to catch. Law-abiding hunters, farmers and sport shooters are treated like the problem while criminal gun smugglers and gang members continue operating. Criminals do not register their firearms. They never have. So when government makes it harder for a lawful Canadian to own a firearm while failing to stop illegal guns crossing the border, Canadians are entitled to ask who the policy is actually disarming. And then there is Medical Assistance in Dying. I know the preferred language. I know we are supposed to call it “medical assistance in dying.” I call it what it is when government helps a person end their own life: assisted suicide.
When we are expanding who qualifies, when people who are poor, disabled, mentally ill or simply exhausted are being presented with death as an option, we should stop hiding behind euphemisms and start asking what kind of country we are becoming. When a society finds it easier to help someone die than to help them live, that is not compassion. That is a moral question, and Canadians deserve an honest debate about it.
And while all of this happens, Ottawa has plenty of time for outrage aimed south of the border.
That is convenient. Getting angry at Donald Trump costs Ottawa nothing. It lets politicians point somewhere else. It lets them say, “Look over there.” Look at Washington. Look at Trump. Look at the map. Anything except the failures happening here. But our government is the one Canadians elect. Our government is the one responsible for our border. Our government is the one responsible for enforcing our laws. Our government is the one responsible for protecting the integrity of our democratic institutions. Our government is the one that must answer for whether Canadians can afford to live in their own country. And our government is the one that should answer for the decisions it makes. Not Washington. Not Beijing. Ottawa. Real leadership does not need a foreign president to give it something to be angry about. Real leadership identifies its own problems and fixes them whether the cameras are there or not. Real leadership looks at foreign interference and acts. Real leadership looks at a broken immigration system and says we are going to know who is here, why they are here and whether they have the legal right to remain. Real leadership looks at human trafficking and refuses to treat it as a side issue. Real leadership looks at fentanyl deaths and goes after the supply, the traffickers and the money. Real leadership looks at homelessness and asks why citizens of a G7 country are sleeping in tents and doorways. And real leadership looks at the most vulnerable Canadians — the sick, the elderly, the disabled, the poor and those struggling mentally — and asks whether we have built a system that helps them live, or one that has quietly made it easier to help them die. Those are the debates worthy of a serious country. So yes, call it Lake Ontario. I will. I always will. But Canada’s identity does not disappear because Donald Trump prints something different on a map. The greater danger is what happens when a country becomes so distracted by symbolic outrage that it stops demanding accountability from the people actually governing it. Have a meltdown over foreign interference. Have a meltdown over human trafficking. Have a meltdown over fentanyl taking our children. Have a meltdown over families who cannot pay their mortgage, rent or grocery bill. Have a meltdown over homelessness. Have a meltdown over violent crime. Have a meltdown over a government offering death where Canadians should be demanding life, treatment, support and hope. Those are arguments worth having. But stop letting the President of the United States decide what dominates the Canadian conversation.
Every hour we spend raging about a map is an hour Ottawa does not have to answer for the border, the cost of living, crime, drugs, trafficking, foreign interference and the erosion of our own national confidence. The problem is not what Donald Trump calls our lake. The problem is what our own government has stopped answering for. And Canadians should be far more angry about that.
Bill S-206 Isn't UBI Progress; It's Ottawa's Next Taxpayer-Funded Boondoggle
By Nick Kossovan
A close friend and frequent sounding board for my writing recently texted me a CBC News story reporting on the 25th annual Basic Income Earth Network (BIEN) Congress, held in Toronto from August 19 to 22. Academics, professional activists, and career bureaucrats descended on Toronto Metropolitan University to swoon over Bill S-206. Sponsored by Senator Kim Pate, the bill would establish a national universal basic income framework guaranteeing a livable income for everyone over 17, with no requirement to work.
Proponents frame the bill as a shield against AI and wealth inequality. Opponents, such as Senator Michael MacDonald, rightly argue that state handouts diminish personal ambition at a time when young people should be building their futures. Mark Carney was conspicuously absent, refusing to lend his elite central-planning cachet to what's essentially high-profile virtue signalling.
After reading the coverage, I have to ask: how does one become a "basic income expert"? Is there an accredited degree involved, or is it simply the refined art of sitting in air-conditioned conference rooms, debating how to redistribute money earned by folks who get up at 6:00 AM to go to work?
Stripping away the academic jargon, Bill S-206 positions basic income as a deeply divisive wedge among taxpayers. Canadian UBI evangelists conveniently ignore our southern neighbour, where a culture of risk, innovation, and hard work attracts global enterprise and investment. If Ottawa embraces cradle-to-grave nannyism, it still has to figure out how to hand out money without crushing the incentive to earn it. Spoiler alert: it can't.
Human nature isn't driven by noble intentions. Ambition isn't a factory setting; it's a muscle built through struggle. The fear of poverty and the shame of failure aren't flaws in human design—they are pressure mechanisms that have driven civilizations to create, invent, and prosper. Yet even with these ferocious motivators snapping at our
heels, millions still choose the comfort of dependency over the work required to achieve financial independence.
Imagine the spiral when you remove the stakes that require people to fend for themselves and replace rock bottom with a taxpayer-subsidized buffer that erodes personal accountability. For many adults—and by adults, I mean anyone over 21—being taken care of by parents, employers, or the government has become their primary goal. When you tell a 19-year-old that Ottawa will pad their bank account whether they master a trade or scroll on their phone until noon, you aren't empowering them. You're neutering their drive. You're trapping them in a comfortable prison—a gilded cage—of lifelong government dependency.
At the heart of my argument is deep concern for an expanding population of disenfranchised youth. When purpose evaporates, and hope diminishes, "no future" becomes a convenient cover for apathy (read: Why bother trying?)
While an income safety net may eventually be necessary to keep young Canadians from falling through the cracks, it must never become a permanent, state-funded lifestyle. Any viable income support must be strictly capped at the bare necessities—a temporary floor for survival, not a comfortable salary. Above all, access must be tied to non-negotiable conditions requiring UBI recipients to pursue trade training (where the jobs are), higher education, or active employment, so their drive remains intact.
Before Ottawa rushes into a bureaucratic boondoggle of unearned handouts, it needs to exhaust obvious, low-hanging income solutions first. The consequences of this growing aimlessness are already visible across the West, where young people increasingly embrace political extremism on platforms like TikTok and X. Interpol, Europol, and the FBI have documented teenagers migrating toward extremist digital networks that trade in nihilism, accelerationism, and anti-establishment ideology. These channels rarely rely on sophisticated theory; they simply offer hopeless youth a ready-made tribe and a surrogate sense of purpose. Lacking real-world ambition, a disenfranchised generation will naturally seek out radical doctrines to fill the void.
After 25 annual gatherings, what have the BIEN gatherings accomplished beyond endless academic navel-gazing and zero practical results?
If Ottawa is serious about helping struggling families, it shouldn't be expanding the welfare state; it should be overhauling the tax code. Take an arbitrary, generous benchmark: exempting the first $45,000 of individual income from federal taxation. Economists can debate the precise math, but raising the federal tax-free threshold provides instant relief, directly rewards work, and could be implemented almost overnight without creating another government bureaucracy.
Instead of offering hard math, UBI evangelists rely on sentimentality: "Some people simply can't earn a living wage." The reality? Canadians are being bled dry. According to the latest Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development Tax Revenue Statistics, personal income taxes account for 36.7% of Canada’s total tax revenue, far surpassing the OECD
average of 23.7%. Unlike economic peers such as Germany, France, Japan, the UK, or Australia, Ottawa squeezes everyday working families—not to invest in domestic priorities, but to underwrite foreign virtue-signalling, overstaffed bureaucracies, five-star official travel, and botched multi-million-dollar tech projects such as ArriveCAN.
Then comes the thorny, unavoidable question of eligibility. Should someone who’s worked, paid taxes, and contributed to Canada for 30 or 40 years receive the same monthly cheque as a recent arrival, a newly minted citizen, or someone who’s never worked a day in their life? Should non-citizens and brand-new residents draw from the same well built by decades of Canadian labour? The moment you turn the federal treasury into an open tap, the line for taxpayer-funded handouts stretches far beyond Canada's borders, and the potential for exploitation becomes uncontainable.
When a government confiscates nearly 40% of your earnings under threat of audit and then promises to return a fraction as a "guaranteed allowance," that isn't compassion—it's a protection racket. It's an old political sleight of hand: create hardship, hand out state-issued crutches, and demand your vote in gratitude. Once citizens rely on government cheques to pay rent and buy groceries, they are no longer sovereign citizens; they become clients of the state. This illustrates the warning in Marilyn French's 1980 novel The Bleeding Heart: "There is no power greater than the power of passive dependency."
Bill S-206 isn't UBI or social progress; it's a taxpayer-funded golden leash that kills individual initiative, a fiscally reckless boondoggle, and a ticking time bomb for a taxpayer revolt. By guaranteeing a livable wage without conditions, contributions, or accountability, Ottawa reduces Canadians from self-reliant citizens to government dependents: keep the herd quiet, keep them fed, and keep them compliant. The political axiom warns that the hand that feeds you always holds the collar, which may very well be Bill S-206's underlying intention. 
Kars on King Came and Went. But Where Was the Rest of Oshawa?
By Dale Jodoin
Columnist
The old cars were there. The crowds were there. The politicians were there too. It is an election year, after all.
I enjoyed it. I always do.
But while walking downtown, something started bothering me.
Where was the rest of Oshawa?
Not the Oshawa we remember. The Oshawa we have today is different from the Oshawa we say we want to become.
This is not a complaint about Kars on King. It is an observation.
Where was Ontario Tech University?
We have a university in this city doing serious automotive research. Ontario Tech's ACE facility works with manufacturers, researchers and technology companies testing electric vehicles, autonomous vehicles, trucks and other transportation technology.
Its climatic wind tunnel can reproduce extreme weather and winds reaching 280 kilometres an hour.
That is happening right here in Oshawa.
We have a downtown car show celebrating automotive history while people only a short distance away are helping figure out what the automobile may become next.
Why aren't those two things standing beside each other?
Bring an experimental vehicle downtown. Bring students. Bring engineers. Let people see what is being developed in their own city.
And bring Hunter, Ontario Tech's Ridgeback mascot.
Then there is Durham College.
Durham College trains people for automotive trades and electric vehicle technology.
Bring those students downtown too.
Let a teenager admiring an old Mustang suddenly find himself talking to someone learning how to repair an electric vehicle.
That conversation might last five minutes.
It might also change a life.
And bring the Durham College mascot.
Then another question hit me.
Where were Oshawa's two big sports teams?
The Oshawa Generals are part of the bones of this city. Their history goes back generations, and even their name connects directly to General Motors and Oshawa's automotive story.
Give the Generals a table. Bring representatives. Bring Deke.
Then invite the Oshawa FireWolves.
Professional lacrosse is now part of Oshawa too.
Give them a table. Let families meet the team.
And bring Alphie.
Now picture King Street again.
Classic cars downtown.
Ontario Tech showing automotive technology from the future.
Durham College students showing the skills needed to keep those vehicles moving.
The Generals representing Oshawa's sporting and automotive history.
The FireWolves represent something newer growing in the city.
And through it all, the mascots. Hunter. The Durham College mascot. Deke. Alphie.
Think about the kids.
A six year old may not understand battery systems or aerodynamics.
But that child will remember meeting four giant mascots downtown.
Mom takes a picture. Dad stops at the Ontario Tech display. An older brother talks with a Durham College student. The family discovers the FireWolves. Someone decides to go to a Generals game.
Suddenly one city event is helping another.
That is what bothers me. We already have everything.
The university is here. The college is here. The teams are here. The families are here.
So what are we waiting for?
When politicians are standing beside us at public events, we should ask more than, "How are you?" Ask why Ontario Tech is not there. Ask why Durham College is not there.
Ask why our two major teams are not part of it. Ask what will be different next year.
We should be proud of the cars Oshawa helped build.
But we should be just as interested in what young people here might build next.
Maybe the next great automotive idea is already sitting inside an Oshawa classroom.
Maybe the person who designs it is fifteen years old today, walking through Kars on King with Mom and Dad.
The old cars show us where Oshawa has been.
Our university, college and teams show us who Oshawa is today.
Put them together and we might finally show people where Oshawa is going.
If we cannot bring those pieces together for one day downtown, maybe the bigger question is not what was missing from the car show.
Maybe it is what we are missing about Oshawa itself.
MR. X: WHEN DID MUNICIPAL ELECTIONS BECOME A TEAM SPORT
By Mr. ‘X’ ~ John Mutton, Former Mayor of Clarington
CENTRAL EXCLUSIVE
There is something very strange happening in Clarington's municipal election, and I think residents should be paying attention to it. When I was Mayor, there was an unwritten rule of municipal politics that I always thought made a great deal of sense: you stayed out of everybody else's election. You might privately hope that certain councillors were re-elected. You might have developed good working relationships with them. You might even consider some of them friends.
But their election belonged to them and, more importantly, it belonged to the voters in their ward. You didn't need to be standing beside them at the doors. You didn't need to campaign as a team. You didn't need to tell residents that electing you meant they should elect your preferred councillors too. Why? Because after election day, you might have to work with whoever the public chose. That is democracy.
Yet in Clarington today, we appear to be watching something quite different. Mayor Adrian Foster and a number of incumbent members of Council - with Councillor Corinna Traill notably outside that group - are openly supporting and campaigning alongside one another in a way that increasingly resembles a slate. And I think that raises an important question: When did municipal government become a team sport?
YOUR COUNCILLOR SHOULD REPRESENT YOU - NOT THE MAYOR Municipal councillors aren't elected to represent the Mayor. They aren't elected to represent a political party. And they shouldn't be elected because they are part of somebody else's team. A ward councillor has one fundamental political responsibility: represent the people who elected them.
Sometimes that means agreeing with the Mayor.
Sometimes it means disagreeing with the Mayor.
Sometimes it means being the only person at the Council table willing to say, "No."
That independence is not a weakness in municipal government. It is one of its greatest strengths.
So when incumbents begin campaigning together, endorsing one another, appearing together and effectively asking residents to return the team, voters are entitled to ask what exactly they are being asked to elect. Seven independent representatives? Or a voting bloc?
WE DON'T NEED POLITICAL PARTIES WITHOUT THE PARTY NAMES
I have written before about why I strongly oppose bringing partisan politics into municipal government. Municipal government works differently from Queen's Park and Parliament. There is no government side of the chamber and opposition side. There shouldn't be a party whip telling councillors how to vote. Each member is individually accountable to the people who elected them.
That is precisely why the development of informal slates should concern us. You don't need to print a party name on the ballot to begin creating party-style politics. If candidates campaign together, endorse one another, promote one another and ask voters to elect the group, we are already moving toward the mentality of "our team versus their team." And that is exactly the wrong direction for municipal democracy.
LET EVERY CANDIDATE EARN THEIR OWN VOTE If an incumbent councillor has done an outstanding job, they shouldn't need the Mayor standing beside them to get re-elected. Let them knock on the doors. 0Let them defend their record. Let them explain their votes. Let them tell residents what they accomplished during the last term and what they intend to accomplish during the next one. And then let the residents of that ward decide. The same applies to the Mayor.\
Run on your own record. Tell residents what you accomplished. Explain what you didn't accomplish. Defend the tax increases, spending decisions, development decisions and policies adopted during your term. Then ask the public for another mandate. That's how municipal elections should work.
AND WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THE ELECTION?
There is another reason I always believed elected officials should be careful about interfering in one another's campaigns. You don't know who you're going to have to work with after election day. Suppose a Mayor openly campaigns against a challenger to an incumbent councillor. Then the challenger wins. Congratulations. You now have four years to work together. Municipal government requires cooperation between people who frequently disagree.
Poisoning those relationships during an election for the sake of protecting an incumbent colleague may be politically convenient in September, but it can make governing considerably more difficult afterward. That's why the old approach made sense: Run your race. Let them run theirs. And respect the voters' decision.
INDEPENDENCE MATTERS This isn't about whether politicians are allowed to have friends. Of course they are. It isn't about whether one candidate is legally permitted to endorse another. It is about something much more fundamental: What kind of municipal government do we want? I want councillors who can look a Mayor in the eye and say no. I want councillors who don't owe their election to somebody else's political machine. I want councillors whose first question is not, "What does the team want?" It should be: "What do the people I represent need?"
Clarington residents should examine every candidate individually - incumbent or challenger. Look at their record. Look at their ideas. Look at their attendance. Look at how they voted. Look at whether your taxes went up or down. And most importantly, decide whether that individual deserves your vote.
Municipal democracy works best when we elect independent representatives - not slates, factions or unofficial political parties.
Because the moment municipal elections become about electing the team, we have taken another step toward the partisan municipal politics that Ontario has wisely avoided for generations. And once that door is opened, it may be very difficult to close.
5 Minutes can change your life
By Tom Reimer
Sly wasn’t the type to quit. Failure annoyed him, but it also energized him. Standing in the shadows behind your house, he glared at the back patio door as if sheer determination might make it surrender. It didn’t. The reinforced frame, the multi‑point locking system, the shatter‑resistant glass—every inch of it mocked him. He pressed his palm against the surface, feeling nothing but cold, immovable strength. No give. No weakness. No chance.
Fine. He shifted to the basement window, hoping for a miracle. But the moment he crouched down, he saw the same problem he’d faced last week: the interior window guard, bolted deep into the masonry, unmoving and absolute. He tapped the glass lightly. Dull. Dead. Security film. He hated that sound. It meant you’d thought ahead. It meant he wasn’t getting in.
He exhaled sharply, annoyed but not defeated. “You’re thorough,” he muttered. “I’ll give you that.”
Sly straightened up and scanned the house again. The first floor was a fortress. Every door reinforced. Every window guarded. Every angle covered by cameras or motion lights. You’d built layers of protection, and he’d run into every one of them.
But there was still the second floor.
He tilted his head back, studying it carefully. Two windows facing the yard. One above the patio, one near the corner. Higher, harder to reach, but maybe—just maybe—less fortified. People rarely secured their second floor as tightly as the first. They assumed height was protection enough. Sly knew better. Height was just an inconvenience.
He circled to the side of the house, moving quietly, eyes scanning for anything he could use. A trellis? No. Too flimsy. A drainpipe? Possibly. It ran straight up the wall, bolted every few feet. Old, but not ancient. He tested it with a tug. Solid. He smirked. “Finally.”
He climbed slowly, carefully, distributing his weight, listening for creaks or shifts. The pipe held. He reached the midpoint, paused, then continued until he was level with the second‑floor window. He hooked a foot against the siding, steadied himself, and examined the frame.
No security film. No bars. No visible sensors.
His pulse quickened. This was it. His chance.
He pulled a small tool from his pocket and slid it between the sash and frame. The lock inside clicked faintly. He grinned. “Got you.”
But when he tried to lift the window, it didn’t budge.
He frowned and tried again. Nothing.
He shifted his grip, braced himself, and pulled harder.
Still nothing.
Then he saw it—barely visible in the moonlight. A secondary lock. A small interior latch drilled directly into the frame. Manual. Simple. Brilliant. You’d secured the second floor too. Sly hung there, suspended against the wall, staring at the stubborn window. He felt the same frustration he’d felt at the patio door, the basement window, the entire house. You’d anticipated him again. He sighed, defeated but grudgingly impressed. “Not on my watch, Sly,” he whispered, imagining your voice saying it.
He climbed down slowly, retreating into the night, already wondering if next week anyone else would dare try the second floor—or if your fortress would turn them away just as easily.
As the School Year Begins, Ontario’s Textbook Failure Is Undermining Public Education
by Maj (ret’d) CORNELIU, CHISU, CD, PMSC FEC, CET, P.Eng.
Former Member of Parliament
Pickering-Scarborough East
As Ontario families prepare for the beginning of another school year, students are gathering supplies, adjusting schedules and looking ahead to new academic challenges. Yet many will enter their classrooms without one of the most fundamental instruments of education: a current, comprehensive textbook.
This is not a minor administrative matter. Before the first lesson is taught, every student should know that an organized and dependable resource will guide the course from September to June.
Ontario taxpayers contribute billions of dollars annually to one of Canada’s most expensive public institutions: the education system. Property-tax bills include a clearly identified education component, and the provincial government provides substantial additional funding. Parents therefore have every reason to expect that students will receive the essential materials necessary for learning from the first day of school.
Nevertheless, Ontario students are not necessarily issued textbooks. A striking example is Grade 9 mathematics, for which students are not guaranteed a current, comprehensive textbook. At the very least, high-school students should receive textbooks in their principal academic subjects if Ontario genuinely intends to build a technologically capable, knowledgeable and well-prepared society.
Instead, students may begin the year with collections of worksheets, photocopied pages, online links, presentation slides and teacher-prepared notes. Some schools maintain classroom sets of older books, while others depend heavily on electronic resources. What a student receives varies by school, school board and individual teacher.
This is not educational modernization. It is fragmentation disguised as flexibility.
Ontario’s compulsory Grade 9 mathematics course, MTH1W, is governed by a Ministry of Education curriculum introduced in 2021. The official document is extensive—approximately 222 pages—and contains strands,
expectations, instructional considerations, teacher prompts and assessment principles.
The curriculum covers number sense, algebra, linear relations, geometry, measurement, data, probability, coding and financial literacy. It tells educators in considerable detail what students are expected to learn.
However, it is not a student textbook.
It does not provide students with a logically sequenced course containing clear explanations, worked examples, progressively challenging exercises, chapter reviews and answer sections. It is primarily a policy and professional document designed for administrators and educators. It serves regulatory compliance more effectively than it serves a 14-year-old trying to understand an algebraic equation at the kitchen table.
A functional education system requires three connected instruments: a provincial curriculum identifying what must be learned, a teacher’s guide supporting instruction and assessment, and a student textbook presenting the subject in an organized and accessible manner.
Ontario provides the first and offers extensive material toward the second. It does not guarantee the third—the resource most directly essential to the student.
That omission has serious consequences from the opening day of the school year.
A textbook gives a course intellectual structure. It allows a student to revisit yesterday’s lesson, prepare for tomorrow’s class, recover material missed during an absence and study independently before an examination. It enables parents and tutors to understand what is being taught and in what sequence. It also establishes a common academic foundation when students change schools or teachers during the year.
A collection of digital links and worksheets does not necessarily provide that continuity. Files disappear, online platforms change, links expire, and individual pages become detached from the broader course. Students may complete exercises without understanding how one concept leads logically to the next.
Technology can enhance education, but it should not be used as an excuse to abandon coherent instructional materials. Digital resources should complement a properly organized textbook, not replace it with an assortment of disconnected fragments.
The problem is particularly serious for students with learning difficulties, limited internet access or a need for consistent organization. It also disadvantages families unable to purchase commercial workbooks, private tutoring or online subscriptions.
Textbook policy is therefore an equity issue—and the inequality begins as soon as the school year starts. Some students enter Grade 9 with families able to purchase additional resources and tutoring. Others must depend entirely on whatever collection of materials their particular school or teacher assembles.
Ontario law requires publicly funded school boards to provide students with required textbooks and learning materials without charge. Nevertheless, the practical meaning of “provide” has been seriously weakened.
A temporary classroom copy, access to an online portal or a package of photocopies may technically satisfy an administrative interpretation while failing to give students a dependable and complete course resource.
This is where bureaucratic compliance becomes disconnected from educational purpose.
Every decision should be guided by one practical question: what tangible educational benefit does the student receive?
The contrast with questionable school-board expenditures reported extensively in the press is disturbing. These incidents demonstrate why the Ontario Ministry of Education must exercise stronger oversight and demand strict accountability for how school boards spend taxpayers’ money.
As another school year begins, families must ask why students cannot receive textbooks.
These incidents are not representative of every educator, trustee or administrator. Ontario has many dedicated teachers who compensate for
systemic deficiencies by producing their own excellent materials, often using their personal time and money.
However, teachers should not be expected to spend the opening weeks of school functioning simultaneously as instructors, curriculum designers, editors and textbook publishers.
The larger problem is institutional accountability.
By 2026, eight Ontario school boards had been placed under provincial supervision amid concerns about deficits, depleted reserves, governance disputes and financial management. This represents a profound failure within the system responsible for safeguarding public education funds.
Whether every questionable expenditure meets the criminal definition of corruption is not the central issue.
When public money intended for education finances administrative privileges that lack a convincing benefit to students, it constitutes misuse of education funds. When this occurs within institutions protected by weak oversight, complicated procedures and evasive language, it may reasonably be described as institutional corruption in the ordinary moral and political sense.
Taxpayers should not be diverted by lawyerly distinctions among “poor judgment,” “mismanagement” and “inappropriate discretionary spending.” The essential question is simple: did the expenditure materially benefit students and their education?
If the answer is no, it should not have been charged to an education budget.
Ontario should require every compulsory secondary-school course to have an approved, complete and current student resource ready before the school year begins. It may be printed or digital, but every student should receive access to the same core content on the first day of class. Printed copies must be available to students who need or prefer them.
Education policy should begin with the learner, not the bureaucracy.
A wealthy province capable of producing hundreds of pages of curriculum directives can also produce or procure a coherent Grade 9 mathematics textbook.
There is no justification for beginning another school year without guaranteeing that resource to every student.
Failure to do so is not innovation, modernization or flexibility. It is systemic educational negligence.
As Ontario students return to school, they deserve more than curriculum expectations scattered across websites, worksheets and computer platforms.
On the first day of class, every student should receive the basic instrument that generations of successful education systems have understood to be indispensable: a well-written book that enables them to learn throughout the school year.,
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